


Into the Unknown

by txrches



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, The 100 Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 17:13:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5936397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/txrches/pseuds/txrches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"In Raven’s head, it’s more of an <i>'oh shit'</i> moment. In Octavia’s, it’s a mere <i>'finally.'</i>"</p><p>In which Octavia hurries to Raven's side following the destruction of Mount Weather.</p><p>(Canon up until 3x03, excluding Linctavia)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into the Unknown

When Octavia bursts into the room, Raven is lying atop a gurney fashioned out of scrap metal, with strips of tarp woven in between in an attempt to make it more comfortable. Comfort, however, is the last thing on Raven’s mind, because the entire lower half of her body is numb. (It’s a painful kind of numb, where she swears her legs are literally caving in on themselves.)

She’s not even sure if she’s dying or not, to be honest. The corners of her vision are blurred and the ringing in her ears drowns out everyone else surrounding her. Which is probably why she’s the only one who doesn’t react when the metal doors of the room are thrown open, slamming against the wall and causing everyone (well, _almost_ everyone) to divert their attention towards the front of the room. 

The doors swing shut slowly, swaying back and forth a few times before eventually settling back into place. Octavia stands frozen in front of them, suddenly aware of the fact that everyone’s eyes are trained on her. (Subtlety isn’t really her thing, she supposes.)

Abby moves forward to address the girl, but Octavia’s already honed in on the reason she’s here. Raven, who’s too weak (or too exhausted) to lift her head, suddenly becomes aware of the change in the room — which is soon followed by commotion.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Octavia shakes her head at Abby, who’s just lifted a hand to try and asses the girl. There’s an edge to her voice. “I’m fine.” She brushes off her arms, and Abby is about to protest when the doors swing open once more, and suddenly the room becomes a bit more crammed, as Bellamy, Indra, and Kane all crowd Abby — their rushed conversation trying to make sense of everything that’s happened. 

Octavia is soon forgotten, prompting her to slip past Abby and hurry over to where Raven lies. She pauses, if for a moment, stopping herself at the end of the gurney and letting her eyes assess the damage. 

 

* * *

 

She’d never admit it out loud, but Octavia feels responsible for Raven. 

She remembers the day Murphy shot a round of bullets through the floor of the dropship, and how, amidst all the chaos, Raven went unnoticed. It was only when the injured girl was able to pull herself out of the dropship, struggle to limp into camp, and call out for help, that anyone seemed to remember she was there. While Bellamy hurried to get the girl off her feet (always a hero), Octavia had stood frozen in place. _How could she have forgotten that Raven was down there? How had no one noticed that she was missing?_ A darkness washed over her as she had watched her brother disappear into the dropship with the girl. _How could she have been so careless?_

There’s an unspoken bond between the hundred. The originals. They’d braved the Earth alone — sent down for mass slaughter, only to end up being the saving grace for those who had condemned them. There’s an understanding between them — Monty, Bellamy, Jasper, and the rest. They’ve all seen the things she’s seen, witnessed the countless deaths that she has. So although many more Ark survivors have arrived, they’ll never quite understand what it was like — those first days on Earth where Octavia was filled with equal parts fear and freedom. 

But there’s those who know, and there’s a kinship between them. Bellamy, her brother, who did anything just to protect her. Clarke, who, despite their disagreements, is still someone Octavia looks up to. And then there’s Raven, who Octavia began to notice a lot more after that day in the dropship. 

 

* * *

 

 

Clearing her throat, Octavia struggles to address the situation. Raven’s face is caked in ash and dirt. Abby, with a million other things running through her head, had managed to tend to Raven’s wounds, but forget to wipe the dirt from her face. So Octavia grabs a clean rag from a table over, dunks it in a bucket of water, and takes a deep breath before moving to stand beside Raven.

“Hurts, yeah?” She offers the girl, who’s been blankly gazing at the ceiling this entire time. Octavia’s voice startles her, and she turns her head quickly to look at the girl, wincing in pain when she moves too fast.

“S’just me,” Octavia quickly holds up her hands to show Raven she means no harm. Brown eyes, wrought with exhaustion, fall shut as Raven sighs heavily. There’s something about the familiarity of seeing Octavia that puts her on the verge of tears — again. 

Taking that as enough of an answer, Octavia gently sits on the edge of the gurney, being careful not to shift the girl’s position, and reaches out to press the damp cloth against her face. Raven’s eyes flutter open once more, shooting Octavia a confused look. “Why are you here?” 

Ouch. Octavia pauses. Her eyes scan Raven’s face for a moment before giving her an honest shrug. “There’s dirt on your face,” she nods, holding up the rag for Raven to see. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I don’t need help,” Raven shoots back, although her eyes lack the fierceness that they normally do when she retaliates. 

(For Octavia, this is a small victory. Considering just a few days ago Raven had hissed “I don’t need _your_ help,” at her when she tried to give Raven a boost onto the horse. In the end, Octavia had to give her a leg up. But they don’t talk about it.)

Octavia knows better than to argue. 

“Fine then. Here,” she lets the rag drop on the space between them. “Do it yourself.”

If Raven had enough energy to roll her eyes, she’d be doing it right about now. Octavia tenses when Raven reaches back to grab the rag. Her arms are covered in dirt as well, green skid marks trace her skin and Octavia’s reminded just how far the girl was blown backwards. Instinctually, her hand grabs Raven’s when she notices the girl’s knuckles. They’re dry, cracked, and bleeding. (Abby really must be pre-occupied.)

“I’ve got it,” Octavia nods, fingers closing around the rag to pry it back out of Raven’s hands. Her words come out as more of a question, and she’s honestly surprised when Raven doesn’t argue. It worries her, actually. At least when Raven’s putting up a fight, Octavia knows she’s still fighting for something. 

She tries to change the subject. Get Raven’s mind off of things.

“I think Indra took me back tonight,” she says, blurting out the first thing that comes to mind. She’s trying her best to clean off Raven’s hands now, making sure not to hurt the girl any more. Raven mumbles something inaudible, and when Octavia looks at her questioningly, the girl just shakes her head weakly. 

“Are you hot? Cold?” Octavia stands up slightly, her eyes already scanning the room for a blanket of some sort. She pauses, though, when a pair of trembling fingers enclose around her wrist and pull her back down to sit on the edge of the table. She immediately looks at Raven, pleading for her to say something.

“ _Bellamy_ ,” Raven’s eyes are a bit wider now, and Octavia shivers when she hears just how broken the girl’s voice is. She can’t help but feel disappointed, either. Raven would rather her brother than her. 

As soon as she stands up to call out for Bellamy, though, Raven hurries to stop her. She tries to push herself up, but Octavia is quicker, shaking her head and making sure she remains on her back.

“You don’t want Bellamy?” the dark haired girl cautiously removes her hands from Raven’s shoulders when she’s sure the injured girl won’t attempt to sit up again. Raven shakes her head. 

“Gina,” closing her eyes, Raven’s hands fall weakly against her sides. “She’s… she’s not…”

“I know,” Octavia shakes her head. “We know, Raven.” Her mind is still reeling from everything that’s happened. And the fact that none of them are entirely safe at the moment is keeping her on her toes. 

“I’m sorry,” Raven whispers, and makes a futile attempt to shake her head. “I didn’t know… I-I tried—,”

“I know,” Octavia repeats herself and interrupts the girl before she can finish her sentence. “You tried. So did I. It’s a weight we all bear.” 

“What’s going to happen?”

“I,” Octavia pauses to look over at her brother and the rest of the group. He looks defeated. She pries her eyes away and gives Raven an honest answer. “I don’t know. Ice Nation broke the coalition. It’s anyone’s game.” She pauses. “Indra’s being escorted back to her people tonight. I’m going with her. Bellamy and the rest are staying here to secure the borders.”

“And me?” Raven’s eyes flicker up to meet Octavia’s. “What do I do?”

“Rest,” Octavia answers without hesitation. “You’re hurt.” 

“I’m fine,” Raven grits her teeth and tries to sit up once more, but to no avail. Her arms shake under her weight and she grunts, slumping back against the makeshift bed. 

“None of us are _fine_ , Raven,” Octavia stands up, her eyes trained on the ground. “We haven’t been fine for a while, if you haven’t noticed.” 

(Octavia can’t help but feel relieved, though. Because Raven’s stubborn nature is showing. At least she’s still fighting.)

There’s silence that follows. Raven looks up at Octavia, whose eyes are hung low as she shuffles her boots aimlessly against the ground. Raven is suddenly reminded of the young girl who she met only a few months back (although it feels like ages), who was struggling to hold her own on the ground. So much has changed since then. The green eyed girl now dons a grounder tattoo that hugs around her shoulder, and her hands—now steadier—can handle her blade like second nature. 

But for now, she just looks human. Octavia, who tried everything to be the good guy, ended up causing the deaths of her people, all because she believed they could trust Echo. Octavia, who is now showing her age (a girl of only seventeen) as she yawns, wipes her eyes, and lets her shoulders fall slightly. 

And so Raven thought she knew her. But this, tonight, feels like the first time she’s really _seen_ Octavia.

And for some reason, that realization sets forth a whole new set of tears.

“Woah, woah, hey,” Octavia’s head snaps back up when she sees Raven’s hands clamp over her face, doing her best to fight back sobs. This had seemingly come out of nowhere, and Octavia, plagued with guilt, stands nervously by the side of the bed. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she adds quietly.

Octavia sees how much Raven is trying to fight back her tears. A thought crosses her mind and she quickly reaches over the bed to grab hold of the tarp curtain beside the wall, tugging it forwards and allowing it to slide around the metal track in the ceiling, enveloping them and keeping wandering eyes away. 

At first Octavia was set on letting Raven cry. She’s sure the girl hasn’t been able to let it out for a while now. (Which she understands. Octavia can’t remember the last time she’s cried. _Really_ cried.) But when she sees how badly Raven’s hands are shaking, she feels compelled to do something. 

“Raven,” Octavia shakes her head, hoping to get the girl’s attention. She’s not sure what to do. She’s never been much of a comforter, let alone someone who can deliver a motivational speech. That was her brother’s job.

“Raven, hey, c’mon,” she tries again, feeling a pang of sorrow in her chest. Although she’s never been in Raven’s exact position, she understands. The ground has broken them down time and time again. She suffers differently, but she suffers. So she understands. And when Raven doesn’t seem to acknowledge her, Octavia changes her course of action.

 

* * *

 

 

Raven feels hopeless. It’s a crushing hopelessness. She wants to have hope, but hope nowadays feels like drowning. Something always grips you by the waist and pulls you back under, just as you’ve got a taste of air. 

Just today, she’d slowly grown more open to the idea of letting Abby help her. Or at least, _try_ to, thanks to Sinclair. But, of course, in Raven-style fashion, everything has to fall apart just as things were looking up. Is it bad if she concludes that she’s used to it by now?

She doesn’t even remember why she’s crying. Her mind is so fogged. And for the girl who’s seen every type of pain and destruction, she can’t help but wonder why it continues to hurt each time. There’s a panic residing inside of her. How will she… how will _they_ recover from this? She’s so damn tired of living in fear of the unknown. At least on the Ark there was some sense of security.

And once she starts crying, she just can’t stop. She’s gotten herself into quite the predicament (considering, she _hates_ crying in front of anyone).

But then she’s taken aback when, unexpectedly, her hand is quickly taken by another, and, before she can think, moved away from her face. Trying to calm herself down, she holds her breath and looks up through tear soaked eyes. 

To her surprise, Octavia is now kneeling beside the makeshift bed. She holds Raven’s hand in between her gloved ones, and after blinking a few times, Raven swears Octavia looks like she’s about to cry. It’s only for a second, though, because when their eyes meet, Octavia gives her a weak smile and squeezes her hand. 

“We’re safe,” Octavia nods softly. “For now.”

She can still feel Raven’s hand shaking in between her own, but at least she isn't crying as much as before. That’s progress.

“I’m sorry,” Raven’s voice is hoarse. She’s not sure why she keeps apologizing. She just feels the excessive need to. As if it’s all her responsibility. As if it’s all her fault. 

This is the second time she’s apologized, Octavia notes. Deep down, she knows. She knows what it’s like to feel solely responsible for the things that have happened. (Which is why she made the resolution to remain cordial with Clarke, if and when she returns. Sometimes she longs to follow in the girl’s footsteps. To disappear into the woods on her own, away from it all. She wonders if the Arkers would go to the same lengths for her as they had for Clarke. Octavia’s not so sure.)

“I’m sorry, too,” Octavia nods. Now it’s Raven’s turn to be confused.

“What?” Raven uses her free hand to half heartedly wipe at her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m just sorry,” Octavia shrugs. She can see her brother’s figure thorough the silhouette in the curtain. It’s the calm before the storm, she decides. Gina’s death, along with the death of the others at Mount Weather, will cause an uproar. She closes her eyes and sighs. “I’m sorry for us. All of us.” 

Raven gets it. She’s not sure how, she just does. Self pity may not be the best coping mechanism, but right now it’s about all they’ve got. 

She’s suddenly ten times more aware of the fact that Octavia’s still holding tightly onto her hand. Their fingers aren’t interlaced, but instead Octavia has Raven’s hand cradled tightly between her own. She focuses her eyes on the metal embellishments on Octavia’s gloves, remembering the day the girl reappeared at Camp Jaha, decked out from head to toe in grounder gear. She remembers the utter relief she felt when she realized the younger girl was alive. Wounded, but alive.

“What?” 

Octavia’s question snaps Raven out of her daze. She looks at the girl in confusion.

“You were smiling,” Octavia notes, nodding ever so slightly. She’s still kneeling next to the bed, and she rests her head on top of her arms quietly. 

Realizing her slip up, Raven hurries to change the conversation. There’s been a shift in the air for a while now, and she can’t put her finger on what it is. Swallowing hard, she nods towards the dark haired girl. “You’re covered in dirt,” she notes.

“So are you,” Octavia quips back. (She decides to let Raven get away with avoiding her question, although she won’t forget it anytime soon.) Even so, she drops Raven’s hand so she can peel off her gloves and pull the bucket from beside her over to splash water on her face. She clears her throat, shaking off her hair like a dog before flicking the excess off of her face using her hand. She and Raven lock eyes once more, for a moment too long, and suddenly they’re both aware of what’s happening. 

(In Raven’s head, it’s more of an “oh shit” moment. In Octavia’s, it’s a mere “finally.”) 

Now, before either one of them has a chance to break the silence between them, the curtain is pulled open, startling Octavia and nearly sending her falling backwards onto her bottom. She glares up at Bellamy, but her expression falls when she notices how solemn he appears. He’s already closing himself off. 

“We’re heading out,” he nods to Octavia, taking a moment to assess Raven’s situation before yanking the curtain back shut. Octavia shivers.

“He knows?” Raven speaks up, the mood falling once more. Octavia just nods, wiping her hands off on her jacket and standing up.

“Tell him I’m sorry,” Raven whispers, a distant look in her eyes once more. Octavia frowns.

Noticing this, Raven takes a deep breath. “For us.”

Upon hearing her words, Octavia finally cracks a smile. She pulls the curtain open a smidge and peers out into the room. They’re all waiting for her. 

“I’ll come back as soon as I can,” Octavia turns back around to face Raven. She takes a step forward. “You’ll be okay?” 

“Do I have any other choice?” Raven is quick to reply, and Octavia can’t help but sigh. They’ll be okay.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Octavia warns playfully, standing at the edge of Raven’s bed. And then, in a rush decision, she leans down, cups the side of Raven’s face, and runs her thumb over the girl’s cheek as she presses a quick kiss to her forehead. 

It’s stupid, she knows. Explosive, even. But Octavia’s never been one to play it safe.

She doesn’t get to see how Raven’s face turns bright red, or how Raven brings a hand up to her cheek moments after. Octavia’s already hurried out of the small curtained room, too flustered to stay and see how the girl reacts. She pauses, takes a deep breath, and moves to join Bellamy and the rest.

“Octavia, wait!”

Octavia freezes. Everyone else turns to look at her, having heard Raven call out to her. With no other option, Octavia swallows nervously and avoids her brother’s eyes before cautiously poking her head past the curtain. “Yeah?”

“You forgot your gloves.” 

Immediately, Octavia can tell the girl isn’t mad at her. Noting the teasing tone in her voice, Octavia smiles playfully and bends down to grab her gloves from where she’d left them. 

When she moves to stand up, there’s a hand on her shoulder. Her breath hitches, and she slowly turns to look at Raven. The hand then moves up slowly to cup her chin, and Raven studies the green eyed girl’s face. 

“Kick some ass,” Raven smirks, giving Octavia’s shoulder a playful nudge. She ignores the discomfort in her arm that results. In fact, she doesn’t even have to ignore it. She’s too distracted by the shy smile that spreads across Octavia’s face to even notice her pain. 

“Will do,” Octavia nods once and stands back up to her feet. They don’t say anything else. Octavia just gives the girl a sheepish smile and turns away before Raven can see how flustered she is. She takes a moment to recuperate before she hurries over to join her brother and the rest of their group. 

Meanwhile, Raven gazes up at the ceiling, filled with equal parts fear and uncertainty. Although, as she hears Octavia warn Abby to watch over her in a hushed voice, Raven thinks that maybe, just maybe, they’ll be okay. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> @lenajfc on twitter  
> txrches on tumblr


End file.
